Do You Want to be Alone?
by GeneratorCat
Summary: People had often said Kageyama was oblivious, but he never really believed them, until now. In retrospect, he should have seen it earlier and he felt like a dumbass. He was a dumbass. Kagehina.
Kageyama wanted to touch Hinata.

He didn't know why.

In fact, as he watched Hinata get tangled up in his shirt (what kind of dumbass can't take off a shirt) and his fingers twitched toward the smooth skin on Hinata's stomach, Kageyama hardly questioned it. His arm raised an inch but then dropped again when Hinata finally got the thing off, and Kageyama went back to changing out of his own practice clothes, mildly disappointed. He could still reach out, there wasn't anything stopping him really, but some little part of the back of his mind reminded him it might be a strange thing to do. The others didn't go around touching each other; at least, not like that.

Hinata was touching Tanaka, but only in that he was whipping his shirt at him as the older boy laughed, still mocking him for losing to clothing. Suga patted Ennoshita on the shoulder, telling him he did well in practice that day. Noya jumped on Asahi and scolded him for flinching. Even Yamaguchi nudged Tsukishima lightly, earning a quiet, "Stop that," to which he replied softly, "Sorry, Tsukki."

They all touched. Just not the way Kageyama thought about touching Hinata. Hinata, who was still bare chested and seemingly content to stay that way while Kageyama stared.

Hinata had nice skin. It was pale and he had little freckles along his collar bones and it all looked soft, even over hard muscle. It made Kageyama want to test how soft and how hard his body was, press his fingers against it and measure the give. He wanted to run his palms along Hinata's sides, across his abdomen. He'd probably be warm and maybe a little clammy because he was _always_ active, always just bit sweaty. Maybe he'd be ticklish.

Hinata slipping on a shirt disrupted Kageyama's view, and he frowned, reluctantly turned back to his locker, grabbed his clothes, and finished changing.

The ball smacked into the floor and Hinata shrieked victoriously, bouncing up to Kageyama with that freaky combination of satisfaction and desperation burning in his eyes.

"Did you see that," Hinata yelled, holding up his arm, staring at the redness on his palm and fingertips.

"Of course I saw it, stupid."

"That was so _cool!_ It was like," Hinata jumped and swung his arms around, nearly smacking Kageyama. "Ffshaw! _Pow!"_

Kageyama's hand reached out toward Hinata without a plan or prior authorization and for a moment he stared at it, wondering what the hell it thought it was doing. Touching Hinata, is what, and he had to agree the notion was nice and hey, the arm was already extended, so. He slid the hand into Hinata's orange hair and it was fluffy and coarse and the opposite of his own. He liked it.

Hinata blinked for a moment, looking confused at the gentle affection, so Kageyama gripped hard and twisted. "Now do it like that _every time_ ," he said.

Squawking about indignities, Hinata kicked and flailed until he was let go. His hair stuck up in more ridiculous angles than usual. Kageyama wanted to touch it again.

Turning back to the net, Hinata apparently forgot about the offense and called, "One more!" and Kageyama let himself think for a moment he was asking for head pats, rather than another toss.

After a while Kageyama realized he didn't want to touch anyone else. It was only Hinata, only ever Hinata. The one that hit his serves best and the one that had mad, blind faith in him and the one drove him to be better than he ever thought he could be.

He didn't ruffle anyone else's hair or sit as close to others as he did to Hinata. He didn't fight with the others, grab their shirt and jostle them around like he did with Hinata.

Hinata would brush up against him as they walked and Kageyama didn't move away. Then of course Hinata would start to run and Kageyama would chase after him. They would reach the doorway to the practice room at the same time and wrestle, both trying to get through first. When they did this before there was real animosity behind each shove, but now it was just what they did. Kageyama pushed at Hinata's face and legs and chest and it was the most he ever got to touch, and he found himself wanting to pull Hinata in closer, rather than push him away.

Around that time he also recognized that fact that he didn't want anyone else touching Hinata. Noya slapped his back and Suga pat his head and Kageyama scowled. It _bothered_ him. He called for Hinata to come spike his toss and Hinata immediately ran over, away from them, eager for the hit. Kageyama tossed the ball perfectly, Hinata smacked it, and it felt good. Now Kageyama was the one to slap his shoulder, saying, "Good job. Again," and that felt _better_.

The next hit, as Hinata jumped, Kageyama watched not the ball, but legs. Pale legs with fine, light hair and solid muscle, bent at the knee and _powerful_. Hinata's raised arm lifted the bottom of his shirt and a peak of his abdomen showed through. Kageyama clenched his sweaty hands.

Kageyama wanted to touch Hinata.

He still didn't know why.

People had often said Kageyama was oblivious, but he never really believed them, until now. In retrospect, he should have seen it earlier and he felt like a dumbass. He _was_ a dumbass.

Some girls in his class had been talking about boys during their lunch break and Kageyama, while not exactly listening, overheard the conversation. It was pretty standard stuff, for the most part, about which boys they thought were cute, who they were trying to work up the nerve to talk to. Then one of the girls said, with a sickeningly wistful expression, "His hair is so nice, I just want to touch it. I bet it's soft."

The others hummed in agreement.

Kageyama paused, a bite of food halfway to his mouth.

"Did you _see_ him at that swim meet?" another girl asked, and the others hummed even louder. "His chest! His skin was so _smooth_ and pretty, and his _muscles!"_

The group giggled.

Kageyama let the chopsticks fall from his frozen hand.

"Shit," he whispered to himself. "I am such a dumbass."

It didn't feel like being hit with realization, but like a window had been cleaned, and now he could see clearly what was on the other side, and it didn't actually surprise him because he'd seen the vague outlines of it all along.

Kageyama wanted to touch Hinata and now he knew why.

"Do you wanna rumble?" Hinata had his fists raised, feet set in a sloppy fighting stance, looking like he expected Kageyama to explode any second which, really, wasn't unlikely.

"What? No," Kageyama answered, dodging a weak punch.

Seeming reluctant to do so, Hinata lowered his arms. "You have a scary face again. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he bit out. He was not ready to talk about… this. Particularly with _Hinata_.

"You want to race? It's good for you. Gets out all the nasty shit in your head." Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Hinata prepared himself to run.

The sight of his muscle sharpening, the thought of watching him run from just slightly behind (because Kageyama did that sort of thing now, dropping back to watch him whenever he could) had Kageyama shaking his head.

"Do you want to toss to me? We could go practice more." Team practice had just ended, and the two of them were loitering by the door where Hinata had found Kageyama spacing out (thinking about Hinata). "They're about to lock up, but we could go out to the field."

That sounded nice. Kageyama's arms still had that itch in them, the need for a volleyball and the sound of it being smacked. But then it would just be the two of them, no one else to distract him from Hinata's hair and skin and legs and his stupid fucking face.

Hinata must have seen some of the conflict on Kageyama's face because he went still and tilted his head and asked softly, "Do you want to be alone?"

Alone. Without Hinata there to make him feel crazy and flustered, like he had too much energy building up inside with no way to expel it, and no idea which direction it should go if it ever got out. Alone was safer. No problem of doing or saying something horrible if there's no one there to witness it. Alone was better, alone was… just Kageyama.

He'd been just Kageyama before. It had sucked. He'd been alone and he didn't want to go back. Back to before Hinata, before the team, before trust and friends.

"No," he said, looking at the person that made him never feel lonely. "I don't want to be alone."

"Well then come on, stupid Kageyama. Let's go!" Hinata grabbed his arm and tugged him along to the field.

"Oi, you little shit, let go of me."

Hinata didn't let go and Kageyama didn't fight it.

He liked when Hinata touched him.


End file.
